


Revelation

by LucoLoco



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 10:33:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2147415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucoLoco/pseuds/LucoLoco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock now knows he loves Lestrade. Why does this frighten him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for "Love" prompt for Sherlock Rare Pair Bingo, round 4.
> 
> I've been doing this to cover squares but also as an exercise for writing, and, gosh, I didn't expect to be able to get out this many at-least-decent fics but here I am. One more to go!

It was at a crime scene when it happened.

Sherlock was kneeling, inspecting the body of the victim. He had just finished looking at the fingers when Lestrade cleared his throat and asked if he saw anything useful yet, interrupting Sherlock’s concentration. Sherlock’s voice bellowed, asking for silence, and he went back to inspecting the body.

_I love that man but he can be so clueless._

Sherlock heard “I forgot, sorry” before it hit him.

_I love that man._

Sherlock and Lestrade were dating, had been for six months. He knew he always cared for Lestrade, well before they dated, even before lestrade was divorced, around when they met. They started dating after the birth of John and Mary's daughter. Lestrade was the one who expressed interest in dating. Sherlock wasn’t sure they should, as he hadn't dated anyone before, and he didn’t want to ruin what he and Lestrade had (and maybe it was because it was safer than ruining a good thing), but Lestrade insisted.

And it was actually good. They worked well together, they knew each other well enough to know what the other needed, to know how to react to the other, their work schedules suited each other, and they genuinely had fun together. Sherlock was well aware of all of these positives. Most recently, however, Sherlock knew that he liked spending time with Lestrade, on and away from crime scenes, but he was worried because he didn’t know if he truly loved him. You could care for someone and not _love_ them. He was afraid that what he ended up feeling wouldn't be enough for Lestrade.

But here was the answer to his question if he would just declare his love for him. Mentally declared, yes, but a declaration to himself of his love nonetheless.

Sherlock tried to go back to focusing on the body, but he couldn’t. He was too thrown off. He couldn’t concentrate. Sherlock knew that he was done for the day.

“I have to go,” Sherlock stated.

“Find anything?” Lestrade asked.

“I need ten minutes Lestrade,” Sherlock shot back a bit too quickly. “Just ten.”

“Are you okay Sherlock?” Lestrade asked, a look of concern on his face.

“Just give me ten minutes, Lestrade, and I will come back to the body.”

Lestrade looked at him, still curious as to what was wrong with Sherlock, but allowed him to get some fresh air outside.

With a swish of his coat, Sherlock walked outside the room and left the flat.

 _Why is this almost devastating to me?_ Sherlock asked himself. _What does it matter if a question of mine I’ve been asking myself for more than a month has finally been answered? And isn’t good that I love him? Why am I being so affected so badly by this new fact?_

Sherlock did not understand why he was being affected so negatively by this revelation. But he couldn’t let it go.

 _You’re scared,_ he heard in his mind.

Scared? Scared of what? What could Sherlock possibly be afraid of in this situation?

 _You’re afraid he doesn’t love_ _you,_ the voice said.

Sherlock didn't have a response to that.

It wasn't that Sherlock questioned Lestrade's motivations for being with him, he knew Lestrade wasn't using him, and he had proof that Lestrade cared about him in some regard. He could look back at the times before they were even together and find examples of when Lestrade had gone beyond expectations to make sure he was okay (Lestrade would drop things in the middle of them to make sure Sherlock, like going to all the way to Dartmoor from vacation just to check on him or dropping that huge case to make sure he was safe and going as far to call for back up over a text). Sherlock knew Lestrade wanted to be with him.

But did he _love_ Sherlock?

And that scared Sherlock, and he remembered why he try to steer clear of embracing his feelings. It was exciting to know he loved someone, but it was scary to know Lestrade may not return those feelings. It was possible that Lestrade didn't see Sherlock as someone he could date long term. Maybe Lestrade was just curious what it would be like to date Sherlock. Maybe Lestrade was trying to get it out of their relationship and Sherlock hadn't noticed yet.

And what was worse was Sherlock knew he couldn't be mad at Lestrade if he didn't love him. He understood that it was hard to be with him, that it took effort to deal with his moods, and to be mad at someone for not being able to deal with it full time wasn't fair.

 _Whoa, wait,_ Sherlock stopped himself, stopped the mental rambling he was doing and the pacing he had been doing on the pavement. How had he gone done this awful road so quickly. It was clear now that not only did he have it bad for Lestrade, but it was clear he'd be more than upset if Lestrade didn't feel the same way. And that's what scared him most. Sherlock stood on the pavement, his face neutral but inside his stomach was in knots. He didn't think he could go back inside the crime scene, not with Lestrade there. He walked away from the flat.

He walked in search of a store that was selling cigarettes, he needed to calm down. He knew Lestrade would be mad at him, but he needed to relax and think. He found his cigarettes, and went to purchase them when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong Sherlock? What happened?"

It was Lestrade's voice, filled with concern.

Sherlock turned around and looked at Lestrade. He was clearly worried. He was out of breath from chasing him down the street.

"I saw you walk, almost run, away. Was it something in there?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock shook his head.

"Just don't buy those, okay? Whatever it is, we'll deal with it another way then."

"I love you" Sherlock blurted. He hadn't meant to say it, but something about Lestrade being here, having followed him, making sure he didn't pick up a bad habit for his health, made the words come out.

Lestrade stared at him a bit, and his face twitched to smile.

"So you realized this because of a crime scene?" he asked with a smile that said only Sherlock was capable of something like that.  
  
"What? No, not- I can explain what happened later-" Sherlock spluttered.  
  
"You know, I sort of imagined this would happen at a crime scene or some other non-romantic place."  
  
"You imagined this?" Sherlock was confused.  
  
"Well yeah, and I certainly never thought you'd be the first person to say it. I always pictured _me_  saying it and we were always in front of a building. No offense, I just didn't think you'd say it first."  
  
 _"What?"_  
  
"I didn't think I'd be stopping you from buying cigarettes when either of us said it either."  
  
"You've wanted to say it?" Sherlock asked, still trying to come to grips with what was happening.  
  
"What? Oh, oh yeah, I've been, um, I've been planning to but I didn't want to scare you off. Guess I had nothing to worry about."  
  
Sherlock knew Lestrade felt it, but he needed to hear him say it.  
  
"Lestrade, I feel like you're teasing me."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"Just say _it_ back"  
  
Lestrade shook his head but laughed. He bit his lip.  
  
"Didn't mean to do that to you. I love you, Sherlock. Okay? And I've wanted to say it to you for quite some time now."  
  
Sherlock leaned in to kiss Lestrade but Lestrade stopped him.  
  
"Hold on. First of all, not in front of the store attendant" Lestrade said. They both turned to the man behind the counter, who was engaged in their conversation and was disappointed to see this end.  
  
"Secondly, not before you tell me about why the crime scene did this."  
  
Sherlock sighed and began to explain everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Always welcome to concrit, and pointing out of typos/grammar mistakes/plotholes/inconsistencies/etc.


End file.
